


Arrangement

by likeadeuce



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene from Emma and Tony's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrangement

_Tell me: does Cyclops know about the little arrangement we used to have when neither of us were dating? _ – Tony Stark, _Civil War 3_:

"The problem with fake tits," Tony said, touching his lips to the back of Emma's neck "is that they usually look better than they feel. And they mostly look better when your clothes are on."

"I'll be happy to cover mine up, Mr. Stark, as soon as manage you peel your hands off of them." Emma grabbed his fingers and started to pry them away from her breast.

He laughed and pulled his hand free, pressing the flat of his palm against her nipple. "I didn't say they felt _bad_, Frost."

Emma shook him off, put her feet on the floor, and went to look for her blouse. Honestly, why a man thought it was appropriate, after she had come to his bed, to make remarks about her body -- whether it was the body she was born with or the body she chose. She found her bra draped over a lampshade and fastened it before turning back to him. "If you think you've never fucked a woman who's had work done before, you are sadly mistaken. And for your information, Sebastian Shaw likes my body this way --"

"Emma -"

" – and he – and he – any day now -- he's going to ask me to be his white queen –"

"Emma. . ." Tony started to sit up, then stopped to make sure the sheet was pulled over his lap. Men and their strange, random attacks of modesty. She was still flushed and a little sore from the last hour, and now she was supposed to have forgotten what his cock looked like. Not bothering to search for her panties, Emma pulled the tiny dress over her head, ready to storm out without even her expensive shoes. She'd call a cab barefoot. She'd send a courier for the Jimmy Choos. Her exit would be a grand dramatic gesture. . .

. . . If it wasn't for the goddamn dress. It was white of course, off the rack but didn't look it, laces in the back to pull tight and accentuate her new cleavage. It had taken her forty minutes to get the fastenings straight, at home, and then she hadn't been drunk, hadn't still been wet and sweat-drenched and aching from sex, hadn't been standing in the dark in the middle of the floor of the bedroom of a man who thought she was a fake, hot tears burning the backs of her eyes.

"Come here, Emma."

"Fuck you!" she screamed, whirling on him, only managing to get more tangled up with herself in the process. She wasn't used to these clothes. She wasn't used to this body. She wanted to sit on the floor and curl her arms around her knees and rock there, in a little ball. . .

"Come _here_, Emma." Tony moved to the side of the bed, patting the space beside him. "Come sit here, and I'll fix your dress."

A stream of bitter retorts rose to her tongue, but died there. It was, under the circumstances, a sensible offer and even a kind one. She ran the back of a hand under her eyes, to make sure none of the tears had escaped. Her skin felt perfectly dry.

Silently, Emma walked to the bed and turned her back to him. His hands were fast, efficient, gentle. Because he was a rich man, it was easy to forget, but Anthony Stark was used to working with his hands.

"Easier than assembling your little computer chips or transistors or whatever it is you play with all day, I assume," she said drily.

"Nobody at MIT ever figured out my secret," he answered. "But I started with bra straps and lingerie fasteners at a very early age. After that, nanotechnology was a snap. There!" he announced. "And your underwear got kicked under the bed, I think, but you're welcome to leave those. I'm sure I could find a use –" She turned to glare at him, then leaned down to retrieve her silk panties.

She pulled them on and stood up, turning toward the door.

"I'm sorry," said Tony.

Emma scowled. "For. . .?"

"For teasing you. I think you look very lovely. I also think you looked wonderful before, but I'm not one to give lectures on natural beauty."

Emma took a pointed look at his suspiciously thick, suspiciously dark head of hair. "Thank you, Grecian Formula."

He pointed a finger at her. "That's slander. You can try to tell the world I'm Iron Man – which you'll never be able to prove. You can say I'm bad in bed, which people will believe if they want to. But for the love of God, lay off the hair." His smile looked nice, his teeth white in the dim room. Just as quickly, it faded. "Take care of yourself, Em. You're easy to tease because you come on so strong. I forget you're just a kid sometimes."

She jutted her chin at him. "I'm twenty-one years old."

"And like every other twenty-one year old, you're gonna conquer the world. One millionaire at a time, in your case." He lay back in the bed. "Let me know how that goes."

Emma got out of the bedroom and to the door of the apartment before she remembered the shoes.

She didn't go back.


End file.
